The Apocalypse
by raichell
Summary: This is provided as an alternate ending to Season 5. WIP.
1. Chapter 1 Reality

General Information:

_This is an alternate ending to Season 5. Based on the central plot, etc. Please rate & review!_

* * *

Sam sighed, sitting on the front of the Impala, grasping a half finished bottle of beer in his right hand. He thought back to the simpler days: the days when it was just him and Dean, going against diminutive demons – the days where they did more good than bad, the days where they didn't seen to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Sam flexed his head sideways, only to find his eyes locked with Castiel's. They were so dull and lifeless, as grey as smoke – smoke that had risen from flames that burnt away the remainder of Castiel's hope, leaving nothing but ashes that faded into the horizon, leaving no trace of even existing. Sam raised his eyebrows as he noticed that in Castiel's hand was a finished beer bottle. Castiel chuckled as he saw Sam's wandering eyes.

"I used to be able to drink twenty of these, you know, and I wouldn't feel a thing," Castiel exhaled with nostalgia.

"Dean still can," Sam joked in an attempt to lift the dreary mood that lingered in the air, suffocating them, making every inhale bring a sharp pain that made it seem easier to stop breathing altogether. Everyone knew how miserable Castiel was. To once be so powerful, like God himself, and now? He was nothing more than a mere human: weak, helpless, incapable of doing any of the things he could once do with a snap of his fingers. He was just as feeble as his vessel. With high depression and absent faith – it really did seem like the Apocalypse. For weeks now, not once had Sam seen a genuine smile. Instead, he was merely surrounded by a sea of forced arched lips or strained laughs. The master of these was Dean.

Fingering the rings between his hands, Dean was numb. They were so close, but it all felt so far away – like in a distant land, because Dean knew that happy endings only belonged in fairy tales. But this – this was all real. He dreamed about Lisa and Ben: starting a normal life with them. How he wished he could wake up to the smell of waffles, send Ben off to school, help him with his homework, argue and make up with Lisa like a normal couple. All the people in the world, who took that lifestyle for granted, Dean yearned to trade lives with any of them. But he couldn't – it wasn't the life he was born into. No, he was born with a younger brother who had demon blood running through his veins, destined to be Lucifer's vessel, while he himself to be Michael's. Did it really have to be them, out of all the people in the world? I guess so. That's why he was there, sitting on the edge of the cliff after telling his brother he was tired and needed a break from driving, when really, he had never felt more awake. All he really wanted was to get away, to escape reality, if only for several minutes. Breathing in the country air, gazing down at the black abyss beneath him, Dean's muscles relaxed and despite all the troubles, he felt calm.

The end was near. No one knew how it would finish: who would die, who would be saved. Sam and Dean knew there was only one thing left to do – and that was to plough on, under all circumstances, and try with all desperation to save the other and the rest of the world at the same time. They tried to avoid reality – that maybe: one, if not both of them, was destined to die. Freeing themselves of the thought of living without their counterpart, Sam took another swig of beer whilst Dean pocketed the rings with a sigh.


	2. Chapter 2 Sleep

Chapter 2.

* * *

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Why not, Dean? You don't have enough faith in me? I'm your brother – you should trust me."

"It's not an issue of trust. You're just…incapable of fighting off Lucifer. He's gonna wear you to the prom, and that's not what I want for my little bro. After all these years I've spent looking after you, you think I'm gonna change it all now?"

"So how else are we going to get Lucifer in the cage? If you're so reluctant to let me do it, at least have a plan B."

"I will, Sammy, just give it time…" Dean said sternly, although his eyes told a different story – they were bleak, desperate, as both Sam & Dean knew that there was really no alternate option. Sam would have to become Lucifer's vessel and somehow, find enough power to win control of his body. As much as Dean loved his little brother, he knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. "For now, let's just go over to Bobby's and see what he says." Sam nodded in agreement, and then looked over the seat of the Impala to find Castiel sleeping in the back. _No wonder he was so quiet_, Sam thought. But it pained Sam to see him so vulnerable and human. Sam thought back to a hunt they were on, a year or two ago…

* * *

"SAM! BEHIND YOU!" Dean shouted, eyes wide as he saw the demon sneak up behind his brother. In a blink, Sam swiftly swiveled his body and lashed out at the demon with holy water. He watched as the demon burnt, the water more like acid, corroding it.

"The knife! Dean! Where's Ruby's knife?"

"YOU HAVE IT!"

"No. I gave it to YOU!" Panic rose in both the brothers' voices as they realized they had ended up in the midst of a pack of demons, unarmed, with their favourite weapon probably in the trunk of the Impala or the hotel room. The demons – there must have been six or seven – circled menacingly around the duo, closing in on them, their midnight black eyes fixated. Could this really be the end? After all that they've hunted, they were about to be killed by a few demons? Well, there seemed to be no way out. Bruises and cuts were the majority of the brothers' bodies and after the intense battle they'd just been through, they were too weak to defend themselves any longer. Just when they had given up, retreating into the black, allowing themselves to be engulfed, a vivid bright line shone in the distance, becoming brighter still as it drew closer. Then followed a high-pitch sound, shattering the windows and other glass objects, in what seemed to be an explosion. Knowing what it really was, Sam & Dean shut their eyes tightly with relief, waiting for the light to fade and the noise to silence. When it did, they opened their eyes to find their favourite angel standing over them, his face right up next to theirs, staring deeply at them, wearing his usual long brown trench coat.

"Perhaps, my father had made a mistake when he chose you, Dean."

"The only mistake he made is your face!" Dean retorted.

"Don't be silly. Angels don't have faces."

"Huh. Well, thanks anyway for saving us. Let's get out of here, Sammy."

"Where are you two going?"

"It's four a.m. See, we humans need a little something called 'sleep', remember?"

"Ah yes. The inevitable weakness of you humans – making you as vulnerable as a newborn. How pathetic."

"Yeah? So what are you gonna do now then?"

"I'm…not sure. I feel, perhaps, while I'm here on Earth, I may as well do some good."

"Oh, like that time you told the prostitute it wasn't her fault that her Dad left and then she ran off crying? Real good you did there."

"Yes. Perhaps I should have been more subtle. Would girls prefer it if I told them shirtless? That is the point of those kinds of places, isn't it?"

"Not with those love handles, honey."

"Love handles? Is that some kind of curse from Cupid?"

"Goodbye, Castiel."

"Wait, before you go..." Castiel raised his fingers and touched the brothers' foreheads and watched as their bodies fully healed. He then nodded and disappeared, vanishing into thin air.

* * *

Now, here was Castiel, sleeping in the back of their car. Sam smiled sympathetically at him and then swung his head back forwards, watching the Impala conquer metre by metre of the unlit road laid before them, heading into the darkness of the night.


End file.
